


The Great Aspirations of Tom Nesbit

by autumnroses



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:49:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumnroses/pseuds/autumnroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night Tom and Molly broke up, told in Tom's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Aspirations of Tom Nesbit

The plane arrived at London airport at a quarter past three in the morning. By four o'clock, Tom was in front of Molly's flat, rummaging for the spare key she always left by the potted plant. His business meeting went amazingly horrendeous and he thought it a good enough reason to high-tail it out of there before things got even worse. He'd like to think of it as damage control.

He shivered as a gust of wind picked up. Thoughts of the warm comfy bed and cuddling next to his minxy little fiancee made his fingers melt a little. He knew how she hated being surprised. He should've rang her, let her know he's coming, but he couldn't resist being bold tonight. Must be the couple pints of Guinness on the taxi.

Hm, some early morning shag would do him good. God knows he needed the validation.

_Strange. The key wasn't there._

Tom shrugged and stared at the locked door for a couple of seconds. Oh. _OH!_ He had a spare key! Bugger that. He had a spare key tucked deep inside his hand carry luggage. How did he forget that? Tom fumbled with it gracelessly before opening the door with a creak.

He tiptoed quietly through the living room, put his bags down and closed the door. He took pains to be as soundless as possible. There was a dim light coming from the kitchen and Tom noticed Toby missing from his cot. He rolled his eyes. That little furball was probably snuggled next to Molly again. It would be difficult to get cozy with him there. He's never been an cat person, taking that he had asthma when he was young. Once Molly and he lived together though, Jiggles will definitely convert molly to Team Dog.

Honestly, it still astounded him that Molly agreed to marry him. They've been together for only eight months, and it was easy enough to install her into his world. She has been very obliging. Very polite. Very well-mannered. His mates were all surprised he managed to bag himself a doctor and everyone in the family liked her. Apparently, including his stringent father, who approved none of his life decisions since he was 15. 

So he proposed. Everyone was ok with it, and surprisingly, including her. The sex was good and Tom had a feeling she was quite lonely. That was fine. Aren't we all? They had a mutual understanding that this marriage could work if they focus on their own respective roles. That's what she said, anyway. He wasn't nearly smart enough to challenge this. It was a pretty good arrangement.

Sometimes it bothered him that he didn't know anything about her. She was secretive, would disappear some nights on strange errands, leave without notice and talked to homeless people who just happened to pass them by the street. It took all of his manly courage to look at her phone once. She was taking a bath that time. With shaking hands, he told himself he just wanted a tiny peek.

_"Prague. 21:33. - SH"_

_"Avoid travel to Northampton. Talks of terrorist threat. - SH"_

_"Moscow. 05:59. - SH"_

_"Package lost. Last update in Granada. Please update. - M"_

_"12.23.24.55 - SH"_

_"No. - SH"_

_"Wired money to his account. - M"_

_"Murder. Thanks. - SH"_

_"Donberry Rd. Look for Red Cap. - +049367387"_

_"Coagulant is a go. Sending you files. - SH"_

_"Yemen. 07:41. Lab here is dingy at best. Could use help on samples. - SH"_

It went on for pages of this, but not a single reply shown from Molly's side. It left him far more confused than when he started. It was always signed with either "SH", "M" or a weird jumble of unknown numbers, and if Tom didn't know any better, he'd think his perfectly sweet, wonderfully pleasant fiancee was running a drug syndicate. He was far too afraid to bring it up to her though. I mean, what if he was right? He satisfied himself into thinking that it was all just work related, something that he didn't know too much about either.

He has never met anyone from her side of the family. She was always vague about her friends, and seemed perfectly happy to accommodate his social circles. The first time she invited her to her own group was last Christmas, and he wondered why it took her so long to introduce them. They were a nice, normal bunch of people (and not druggies or mafia or any of that sort, thank goodness) and she seemed happy around them too. There was, though, that one awkward chap who walked off without a word after shaking his hand. Tom wondered if he might be some sort of ex-boyfriend. Molly shrugged it off and said that it was nothing. 

Last week was the wedding of one of her friends. Tom thought it a step to the right direction at least. And, most curiously, was the happiest he has seen Molly ever since they met. She smiled a lot and was girly and giddy all day. He was happy too. Who knew Molly was friends with a celebrity blogger and a Scotland Yard detective?  These were high-profile people, and it excited him. He tried his best to fit in. He tried to chat around when they weren't busy and when the tall, curly-haird chap tried to make a crime scene game, he played along. It was like Cluedo or Conspiracy or something! Molly wasn't pleased, but it seemed like a fun activity. He'll do better next time.

Marrying Molly Hooper was turning out to be the luckiest breaks of his life.

Tom peeked inside Molly's room. It was unusually dark. Molly has never slept with her night life off before. Tom's eyes adjusted in the darkness. He pushed back a vomity belch and sashayed to the bed. Oh, he was drunk. Drunk sex is the best. Somebody shifted softly under the duvet and Tom curled against it to get the party started. Molls is gonna get it from the Tommuffin tonight!

"Molls." he whispered in excitement, "I'm home early." He giggled. "Surprised?"

His hand traveled along Molly's waist. Strange. Just strange. Unfamiliar? Muscular? Uhm, no. That sounded daft.

The figure under the thick blanket shifted and Tom's excitement returned.

"Hello, my Mollyminx.." Tom purred softly.

Molly stopped shifting underneath, probably awake now, Tom surmised. A giggle came under there, but it sounded low and monstrous.

Tom stopped. "Molly? Do you have a cold?"

There was a pause again, and a muffled "Uhm-hm" came. It sounded more girlish now, but still quite hoarse.

"Aw, poor baby. I'll make you a hot cup of tea later." Tom said. "But for now, let's make some Tomlovin."

A chortle escaped from under the duvet and a deep laugh soon after. It sounded nothing like Molly. Tom's head spun like dizzy bum. A bad feeling rose about his gut, coming dangerously close to spewing out his mouth.

"Molly?"

"Y--es?" The throaty voice sounded again, flirty in a taunting way, amused, heavy and lidded from sleep.. and above all else,  _definitely male._

Tom staggered away.

_There is a strange man in Molly's bed._

His stomach made a startling dance.

_A strange man in Molly's bed and Molly nowhere to be found._

"Molly?" he said in a voice of a child looking for his Mum.

_Maybe Molly is dead somewhere in the room._

_Maybe this is a serial killer._

_Maybe this man is gonna kill me and feed my liver to the stray cats of the neighborhood._

_This man is definitely going to kill me._

_And I have been playing footsie with him all this time._

Tom let out a big girlish scream.

Lights flooded the house. Feet thundered. Molly opened the door to her room. She found Sherlock sitting up in bed laughing like a maniac, while Tom was curled up in the farthest corner of the room, shaking like a leaf.

"Tom?!" Molly said in surprise. "You weren't supposed to come in until Wednesday!"

Tom didn't answer. He just kept saying "cat food.. my liver... he's.. kill.. kill me.." over and over again.

"It seems like he is under shock, Molly." Sherlock said. "Tomlovin.." he whispered, then clutched his stomach with howls of laughter.

"Sherlock, will you stop?" she snapped.

Molly crouched near Tom's heaped form and held his face.

"Oh, Tom, I'm so sorry. Did he do anything to you? I'm sorry." she said in sweet soothing tones.

Tom's glazed eyes started to focus at Molly's voice and he came to after a minute.

"M-molly?" he said. _It was all a bad dream, wasn't it?_ Tom smiled and took Molly's hands. "Molly, is that you?" he asked.

"Yes, Tom." she said. The voice was Molly's voice. Tom sighed in relief.

"It was horrible, Molly." Tom said. "I dreamt of a cold dark room and I went to bed beside you and a serial kill--" Tom's eyes went to the bed.

The man sat there, smiling maniacally.

 _"Ahhh!_ He's still there!" Tom screamed again. He scampered, attempting to run out of the room to save his hide. Molly pulled him back with effort.

"Tom! _Tom._ Calm down. Calm down. Look at me." Molly sighed.

"Molly, why is there a strange man sleeping in your bedroom?"

"This is not what it l--Okay. Calm down and I'll explain everything." Molly said rather quickly. "This is Sherlock Holmes, remember? You met him at Christmas and at the wedding. He's my friend."

"Friend?"

"...He, uhm. He stays over sometimes, when you know.. he's keeping safe."

"Safe? What?"

"Well-uh--It's complicated you see. His work requires careful preparation and scrutiny--" Molly threw her arms up in the air. "Little help, if you don't mind?" She said, turned to Sherlock in exasperation.

Sherlock sniggered. "Oh, you're doing such a great job. Please do go on."

Molly made a seething face at him.

"Uhm.. uhm.. Yes, well--"

Tom's eyes bulged in horror. "Is he hiding? Is he on the run?"

"What?" Molly said.

"Did he accidentally kill a man and is hiding from the coppers? Did he shoot somebody? Where's the gun? The weapon? We should get rid of it! This is bad, Molly. We can get tangled and caught and jailed--"

 _"What, no!"_  Molly gathered her breath.

"Accessory to murder! That's what we are! I ought to call the cops before it's too late." _  
_

"Nobody killed anyone, Tom!

"Well then why is _he_ here of all places, in your room, sleeping on _your_ bed? There better be a good reason for this!"

"Well-I don't know exactly-" Molly started to say.

"What? And you just let him?" Tom cried incredulously.

Molly sighed. She didn't know what to say. Sherlock shrugged.

"Why? Tell me why, Molly!" Tom demanded.

Molly bit her lip. "Because.." she said. "Because he asked."

There was a long silence that swirled around the room. It was simple, yet obtuse. Tom felt his head swell and deflate like an overgrown balloon. Somehow, her answer was exactly what he had expected, and there was a strange feeling of calm that quelled his nerves.

Molly shrugged awkwardly. "It's nothing, Tom. This tosser just needs the bed sometimes.  But don't worry, you'll get used to it. We all have."

"Who's a tosser?" Sherlock called.

"You." Molly shot back. "You're a tosser for scaring Tom."

Molly looked back at him and cradled Tom's face on her hands. "I'm really so sorry about this, darling. It's going to be alright now."

Tom smiled at her and squeezed her hands back. "Yes, it's all going to be fine." he said. "Molly.. I.. I think..."

"Yes, Tom?"

"I think we need to talk."

"We _are._ We are talking." Molly said worriedly.

"I--I think." Tom sighed. "Can I get my ring back?"

Molly blinked at Tom's words. "What?"

"I.. need the ring back."

"Wh--" Molly's face flushed red. Her eyes grew big and hurt. Tom wished he could take back his words but it was a little bit too late now. "Wh--Are you-No. Are you breaking up with me?"

"Yes? Uhm, sorta." Tom scratched his head.

"Oh. A domestic." Sherlock hissed. "Should've brought some chips."

"Shut up, Sherlock!" Molly cried. "Oh, Tom. Not because of _him!_ It's nothing. I swear. We're not--Oh you arse, you've done it now. I knew this was a bad idea!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and did a fake yawn. "Didn't do anything." He slumped in the bed and covered his head with the duvet.

Molly pulled Tom out of the room. "Tom, let's talk, shall we? This is not worth breaking up over." Molly shook her head. "Sherlock's just a friend. H-he's a--he's a difficult character. But there's nothing going on. I mean, look! He's an arse and he's infuriating and sometimes I just want to strangle him with a wire hanger--"

Tom kissed Molly in the forehead gingerly and hugged her tight. All Molly's fight came out of her and she snuggled in his arms. He smelt the sweet fragrance of her hair.

"Don't break up with me because of him. Please." Molly said, muffled under his coat.

"He's not the reason." Tom said with some apprehension. "Well, not the _only_ reason." he amended.

"I'm not very bright, Molly, no, please hear me out--" he said as Molly started to protest in his arms. "I'm not as smart as you. Or your friends. Or even _my_ friends. But I'm still a man and I'm thirty-two years old. I think I know when a woman wants to marry me or not."

"But, I do. I do want to marry you, Tom." Molly sniffled under his coat.

"No, uhm. Well, I don't." Tom said and it broke his heart. "I don't want to marry you. Not yet, Molly Hooper. Not until you're whole." 

Molly pulled away from his embrace and they stared at each other. Her eyes were red and shiny against the light. There was confusion in her eyes, but also a tiny sliver of understanding. His words woke something simple and real. Oh, she was so beautiful.  And she didn't belong to him. She never did.

"We both deserve that much. Don't you think?" Tom said.

Molly hugged him again and Tom kissed her temple.

"Besides. It's not really _breaking up_  per se. It's uhm, pawning. If you want the ring back, I'll give it full. With interest. But let's give it time to mature."

Molly giggled and Tom smiled to himself. That was a clever way of putting it. 

"I think.. we both need to rethink things. Priorities. What we want to really do with our lives."

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Hm.. I'm thinking of getting a second dog." Tom said conversationally. "Jiggles gets sad when I go to trips."

"Are you.. really sure about all of this?" Molly asked. "Cooling things down? Postponing the engagement? What will your father say?"

Tom shrugged. "Oh lots. Lots and lots. Christmas will be quite an affair, I'll tell you that. But when has he ever stopped pestering me about my life?"

"Never liked the old bugger. No, sorry! That was so rude!"

"He's a horny geezer." Tom agreed. They laughed loud and fell into each others' eyes again. Tom wanted to kiss her at that moment, and he knew Molly would kiss him back. There was still, of course, that wonderful part of her that loved his funny little self. He saw it reflected in her glassy eyes. But he knew enough to know. There was a fire in her that burned bright and strong. Something intangible he never understood. When they were together, Molly couldn't help but pull back her flame. It's just how she is, this sweet Molly. She never wanted to hurt him. And for all the regrets and aspirations and dreams he never became, Tom Nesbit was _not_ going to be a cage.

"Also, I don't think I've ever told you.." he said.

"Hm?"

"You scare me, Molly Hooper. You scare the great ever-living god out of my pants." he laughed.


End file.
